Mass Effect: Red Dawn
by Puppet-Master2013
Summary: A stranded Terran Dominion fleet in a parallel universe hostile to them. This is their story. Pre ME3, Post ME2. Renegade Shepard, Ashley Williams survived, every member survived Collector homeworld raid. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Well, to start off, I've created a SC x ME fanfic and I need ways to improve on it. Character development is one of my weakest umm... whats the word again? Nevermind. So far, I've got three chapters online and a fourth on the way. Despite having two beta readers, marine3950 and JonasGrant, I cant help but feel it can be improved further more. So, I;ve come here to set up shop and see how are the responses here. Hopefully I'll learn a thing or two.  
I'll start by posting the first, second and third chapter here as well as the snippet for the fourth. I welcome all sorts of responses.

Here's the prologue.

_In the late 2504 as the events of Heart Of The Swarm plays out, a desperate Arcturus Mengsk deploys a twelfth of the ever dwindling Terran Dominion Royal Navy and was headed by newly appointed Admiral Backett Adams for a classified retrieval task. Why such a large force was sent on a simple retrieval mission nobody knows for they were never heard of ever again. Records scrapped the men and women under Adams' command as MIA._  
_This is their story._

And here's the first chapter.

**Unknown Location**

**Unknown Time**

_"Personal log, Admiral Beckett Adams of the Dominion Royal Navy. Ever since I was a boy growing up on the Fringe world of Reshfields my late mother had always talked of how big and bad the universe was and how I was better off living an isolated life out in the fields of my homeworld. I didn't believe her, at least not at first. As the years went by I realized she was right, and that us Terrans knew it all too well from our past experiences with one another,"_

*Scene shows Battlecruisers in low orbit launching megaton level nukes into heavily populated areas.  
_"The Zerg,"_

*Scene shows a Zergling roaring into the camera spitting filth and slime all over it. An armored marine in the background tried to run but instead he gets tackled by multiple crack-lings and promptly ripped from limb to bloody limb.

_"And the Protoss, can't forget them now can we?"_

*Scene shows a losing battle of six Behemoth Class Battlecruisers swiftly bisected by high powered energy beams from a handful of Void Rays.

_"And, I gotta say, commanding a leviathan of the Dominion Royal Navy for over 6 years had me exploring places where no man had gone before, seeing things no man should ever witness and experiencing what none should ever experience."_

*New scene; A Minotaur Class Battlecruiser caught with it's shields down desperately tried to maintain its rapidly decaying orbit despite explosions going off in multiple sections of the ship and one could  
even see the Neo-Steel ablative plating drifting away into the vast emptiness of space merrily.

It was being bashed by multiple mass-accelerated slugs too fast to be seen by the naked eye. In a final blaze of glorious defiance, the Cruiser managed an almighty power surge and spat forth its Yamato Cannon's payload before several return shots pummeled the ship's ultra-thick hide, and a lucky hit set it off in a thermonuclear explosion signaling the deaths of a thousand brave men and women.

The Cruiser's destruction did not go unanswered for the fleet it was affiliated with redoubled its efforts in thrashing the enemy vessels.

ATA laser batteries, Longbolt torpedoes and the occasional Yamato Cannon payload cut through the vastness of the void.

_"6 years in the Navy and nothing surprised me anymore. I thought I'd seen it all, I was sorely tempted to visit my mother's grave about a hundred yards from my house and tell her. And tell that if that was the best this universe; God had to offer, well, he should have given us a challenge at the bloody least. Not that I'm insulting God or anything here. I'm a religious man, proud Christian to be exact, don't get me wrong, but there comes a time when all men feel doubt creeping up in the back of their minds. Like I said, I thought I'd seen every bizarre jacked-up shit-on-sticks the universe had to offer. Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong._"

*Continues scene; As the battle reached it's climax with both sides hammering away at one another, a large infiltration task force from the Terran Dominion fleet slipped through the hectic skirmish.  
Orbital drop pods were inadvisable against deploying forces into the "Citadel" because its defensive capabilities were up and about.

That and the objective being one of extraction instead of creating a diversion, that job was for the Banshee gunships of the 9th Dominion Air-Cav. Extraction required subtlety and as such, Stealth Dropships loaded with Goliath Assault walkers and loaded to the brim with Marines would do the trick.

The men were all veterans in urban warfare and had seen their fair share of rebellion and invasion. They were part of the 32nd "Laughing Hydras" regiment, and their specialty were a bastardized mix of stealth and diversionary tactics.

Their commander was Lieutenant Mason "Skull", his call-sign derived from him surviving a Hydralisk spine directly to the head. Without a doubt he's a mean motherfucker.

His CMC-300 was freshly pressed from the armory after he lost his in a smash-and-grab op against a Khalai Protoss tribe known as the "Sargas", thus his current suit had that deep red color which eventually turns orange after wear-and-tear as well as strong paint odor which goes away after about a day later.

**CMDR Mason "Skull" Erde**

**CTD-001 "Citadel", Unknown Vector**

**Unknown Time**

I miss my old suit. That old piece of shit had all my music files built into its mainframe, now that it's trashed I get stuck in this chicken-shit outfit filled with nothing but old country music.

The others were oddly silent, normally on drops they'd be the loudmouthed pricks that they are. I guess it has something to do with the Admiral stuck down in hostile territory.

"Yo Alvarez, whas' our status to touchdown?" hollered Davis from the back.

"Time on target 60 seconds, you'll get some boom time soon enough," replied our pilot over the intercom.

The other guys out back did last minute checks on equipment, a couple would bang fists as last minute 'good luck'. we had a Marauder out back, probably loading some Punisher Grenades into his arm cannons.

I heard he was new, and as a plus, he's a volunteer.

God I hate volunteers, unlike the ressoced Marines who shoot first, ask questions later, they tend to be idealistic and optimistic, always shooting their pieholes off about making a change back home or being big fuckin' war heroes.

Pfft, bitch please.

In the end they all go home in body bags. Marines kill and die, plain and simple. There's no 'fighting the good fight'. We fight to earn our freedom, not for the ideals of one megalomaniac. But this one strapped to the Marauder armor kept his trap shut since the start of the drop so, I'll just have to wait and see what type of person he really is.

The hull began to rumble violently, catching all of us off guard. I fell flat on my face and used the hand rails to pick myself up.

"Pilot, what the hell is goin' on? We being shot at?" I grunted fiercely as I plonked my ass back on the chair.

"Uh, turbulence, its nothing serious. Hostile fire has been redirected thanks to diversionary runs the 9th Air-Cav pulled off. ETA to insertion point, 30 seconds."

I stole a glimpse on my suit integrity displayed on my HUD before addressing my kids. Technically most of these resocced jarheads are older than me, but nonetheless, they give me the proper respect I deserve.

Now, time to ruffle some feathers.

*opens channel to Alpha, Bravo and Charlie squads.

"Hydras, listen up!" The men in the dropship immediately turned snapped to attention due to the fact an officer is addressing them. That and the resocialization they'd received. I looked around the cargo directly into their eyes, damn good soldiers, every last one of em'.

"Admiral Adams is trapped in an alien hellhole. He is surrounded, his escorts are runnin' dry on ammo. We're the goddamn cavalry. I'd expect radio silence and nothing less than military discipline and gratuitous violence from every last one of you dickheads when we hit dirt. "

The Marauder at the back gave a short burst of synthesized giggling, if you'd call it that. "You..said dickhead..man thats funny,"

"What're you laughin' at, cocksucker?" I growled, more like barked. The others turned and faced him. He's new, he doesn't know me, well I'm gonna fix that in a jiff.

"I'm waiting for answer, Private! Your words or your brains against the walls; I'll have either."

"Oh. Uh, uh, N-nothin, sah', just trying to lighten the mood, 'sall."

"Whats your name, boy?" I strode over to him and shoved my face into his sealed helmet. I had to tiptoe though, these Marauder suits are tall.

"Private-"

"I didn't ask for no rank, gimme a name. Now." My voice was deadly grim and low. But I'm actually laughing inside, I love it when these newborns writhe and twist in anxiety.

"Ray, Ray Destropes from Korhal, sir!"

Kid has a nice name, I can tell you that. My armored finger stabbed his chest-plate as I made my point across.

"Alright Ray, I'm gonna let you off lightly this time, after this drop you report straight to the mess hall for toilet duty. 2 weeks."

"O-of course, s-sir."

I turned and punched open the hatch. Alarms blared as the landing pads lowered revealing Anti-aircraft fire going off in every direction except ours, those crazy flyboys from the 9th must've taken a significant amount of losses just so we could do this. And I'm makin' sure their efforts aren't wasted.

"Alright grunts, we will be jumping instead of landing, as soon as Alvarez gives us the go we move! Get your kit packed and yourselves ready, Ooh-rah to ashes!"

The blocks in this section of the Citadel carried little to no sign of shops or offices, so we could be in some kind of living quarters.

"Nice place, always wanted to settle down in a setting like this," mumbled Ortega as he shut his visor. It brought a smile to my face, it's true the Marine in question was a little tired of blood and guts. He needs just a little under a year before the Corps release him.

But in the situation he's been dealt, that future's pretty much gone. Davis banged a fist on his shoulder plate in reassurance. Davis, well he's got a big heart, yet his imposing figure says otherwise.  
Pretty much everyone thinks him as a big friendly giant.

The lights suddenly flashed into a deep teal hue. It's go time.

"Alright, move it jarheads and shoot some of the bastards for me willya'?"  
voiced the pilot over the intercom. Ficks gave her a reassuring, "Ooh-rah!" and racked the slide of his Gauss Rifle.

I jumped first, 10 feet wasn't a big deal when you're strapped in a few hundred pounds of Neo-Steel. My enormous boots sunk into the inorganic tiles and absorbed the shock. Behind me came a 'Laughing Hydra', then another and another until everyone was present, including the Goliath escorts.

"Spread out Hydras, form me a perimeter!" I growled. No words were exchanged as we executed our sweeps.

"Clear,"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

The Goliaths strode off with Bravo and Charlie squad, their reinforced legs mashing each tile they step on. Alpha squad remained. I have a job for them.

I spotted something of interest and snapped my fingers to get my boys' attention.  
"Alpha, get someone to jack into that console there and dig up information, maybe we can find a shortcut."

A Marine began accessing that thing while the others covered his exposed sections.

"El-tee, this goddamn thing is un-fucking accessible, gimme' thirty seconds tops,"

I groan inwardly, we don't have thirty seconds of stalling, the Admiral's counting on us. Not a moment later someone tried to reach me on the Command channel.

"This is Skull, go ahead,"

I gruffly hissed, trying to sound fierce like any other serving Marine in the Terran Dominion. But when I recognized who was on the other end nearly made me piss myself in front of my subordinates, it was Captain Durandal, the one overseeing this Op.

He's one of the original few 'Sons Of Korhal' back when Mengsk ran his little rebellion against the Confederacy. He's my CO, mentor, and my cousin who was twice removed. Did I mention every Marine in this battle group venerates him similar to General Horace Warfield himself?

"Lieutenant, what's the skinny down there?" He demanded with a thick Fringe-Worlder accent.

I glanced around, observing the men whom were all deathly silent, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention bearing down on us.

"Just touched down, delayed 30 seconds. We're moving off ASAP." I spoke briskly.

"Understood. We have a fix on your position, the Admiral is half a klick East from where you're located. Proceed with caution,"

I closed the link when someone whispered over the local net, "Heads up guys, I spotted an enemy patrol closing in on our location. Ugly xenos and one's armed with what appears to be a sniper rifle. We gotta' move now or take em' out."

"We take em' now!" whooped La'Beow. I held my hand signaling them to hold their horses. Seems like they're forgetting who's in charge here.

"No, too much at stake here, we move now. These Goliaths here are big profiles and I don't wanna give ourselves away. The Admiral is counting on us. Alpha get back here and take point."

Samuel Irons was Alpha squad's leader. He was once a notorious butcher back in the hey-days of the Confederacy, but neural resocialization made him the good soldier that he is today. He comms me in acknowledgment, and continues that the console was useless anyway.

'Wasted 30 precious seconds, way to go, Mason. Real smooth.' I thought angrily.

We trekked through the place, and found a sign in 'English' which read 'Presidium Commons'. It wasn't banged up as we thought it would be, which meant the flyboys haven't been doing a good job thrashing this place after all.

"Too quiet. " Someone whispered,

"Remember Seprus Prime?" another chipped in unhelpfully.

"Remember I told you to stay off the comms unless it's important?" I growled and immediately all was silent.

_What the hell? Oh no, I'm having none of this!_

"Charlie squad your guys are too packed, spread out a little, don't bunch up."

The marines kept their distance a little further while Goliath attached to them made occasional swivels just to make sure they've done their sweeps well.

Through my visor I scanned for lifesigns and -_ Fuck me sideways..._I got twenty bio signatures and it ain't us.

"I got readings!" spoke Taylor over the net in a sing-song voice. Probably because he gets to pop something after all.

"Stay frosty, yo, this the wild west." someone I didn't recognize whisper over the net. I replied a silent, "Ooh-Rah" in agreement.

We did the best we could in that situation, tighten the sweeps and loose ends in our formation. All the while I prayed that the bio scans we've picked up are just non-combatants hiding from plain sight. This was where the alien civvies live right? So it could just be them taking cover from all the fighting going around.

A fight on our hands means a delay to reaching and securing Admiral Adams. A buttload amount of haste is required for this mission.

We then came upon a – _Oh shit!_

I quickly held up a closed fist and our group came to an abrupt halt and surveyed our surroundings. Just as I thought, perfect place for an -

"Ambush!" roared Ray as an RPG smashed into one of our Goliaths and detonating in a dazzling fireball. The walker tilted sideways before it regained composure, sparks and loose wiring came a' dangling but otherwise it was still combat effective.

Thank god my suit's mufflers muted most of the shockwave and explosion, it could have given me a helluva concussion. First came panicked the cries over the local net, next came enemy fire.

By the looks of things, I'd say we're being pelted by full automatics and the shots originated from all along the upper floors.

No words needed be spoken as we all dived under whatever form of cover we could find. The Goliaths pounded the upper floors with suppressive fire with their twin 30mm Autocanons. Visibility became zero as dust kicked up and stuck to our visors, targeting systems became moot and we were left with no choice but the Impaler's iron sights.

We returned fire, or, we tried to but were unable to identify our targets. They were too dug in and well hidden within the upper floors, snapping off some shots before ducking back into cover. I quickly noticed enemy fire beginning to slacken, either they're reloading or the Goliath cannons are bringing too much heat.

Either way, it's time to dish out some pain. Above the din of bullets pelting all around us, I hollered over the comms.

"Sergeant Brutus take Bravo and hunker down that pile of rubble over there, it'll give you defilade from most of the fire and a flanking position!"

"Aye sir! Nathaniel and Orlav hustle up, we movin' in Five!"

*Opens General Channel

"Hydras, be advised, Bravo squad is moving for flank route!" I screamed and switched to firing from the hip. The others did the same, there no sense in aiming really, with almost little to no visual on a target the best we could do was to shoot back. Short controlled bursts instead of spray and pray.

Once in a while, that Marauder, Ray would launch a Punisher Grenade and then swiftly douse back into cover. His payload flew straight and true before impacting upon something before a cry of pain could be heard.

"Hey, I think I got one!" - PVT Destropes

"Nice work kid, now shoot the other one thousand!" - PFC Orlav

Punishers are nasty, if the grenades didn't kill you outright you'd be having to deal with the concussion for the rest of the day.

Some of our guys took hits, shots impacted upon their chestplates but otherwise turned out alright. Sadly we had yet to hit one of those sneaky fucks. I emptied what was left in my clip and watched in satisfaction as the spikes shattered the air around my target; A shadowy silhouette clad in a skin-suit of sorts, thus forcing him back into cover.

"This is Bravo, moving now, over!" - SGT Brutus

"Confirmed, go! Go! Rest of you, give our Hydras some covering fire goddammit!" I shrieked. Long burts lit up from our C-14's muzzles and chewed away at any potential cover housing the opposing forces.

Once Bravo squad had a good defilade from enemy fire, their C-14s sang an orchestra of death once more.

This was a game of cat and mouse. One side would pop out of cover, squeeze off and disappear before the opposing forces could get a bead on any of them. However, this disfavored us because of our bulky frames. That and we didn't have time for games.

"Cranker One and Two, direct your fire over to where I'm lasing, over!" I brought the laser sight onto one of the upper floors where most of the attackers are dug in.

"Five-By-Five," - Cranker-01

"Copy, shifting to engage," - Cranker -02

Both the Goliaths coordinated their attacks; swiveling their twin canons in a general direction before pounding and chewing upon alien steel. I grinned when my audio systems picked up what appeared to be multiple cries of pain. About time they start dying.

"Need a heavy weapons specialist front and center!" I spoke over the net, hoping that someone would acknowledge.

"Lieutenant, its Ray, point me at em' and I'm good to go!" The Marauder's good but his armaments aren't suited for anti-infantry tasks. I needed something to flush these cocksuckers out. A 40mm HE Grenade would do wonders here.

"No Private, you stay where you are!" I sharply barked and hadn't heard from him then. To my right someone banged on my shoulder-plate.

"El-tee, heard ya need a support specialist, I'm ya' man,"

I turned and faced the marine to my right, IFF tag indicated "CPL Kowalski" His C-14 was affixed with a 40mm grenade launcher attachment compared to regular Gauss Rifles which came with bayonets.

"Kowalski, you got any juice in that grenade launcher?" I practically roared in his Hydralisk decorated visor as some stray rounds skimmed past my suit. We don't know the extent of the damage dealt by enemy weapons. For now all we know is that our suits could withstand it but I wasn't inclined to find out for how long.

He nodded and prepped his attachment as the fighting took its second minute.

"Set!"

He yelled.

Charlie squad shifted and bought time for Kowalski to get into a suitable firing position.

"Now would be a good time, sweetheart!"

I cried as some rounds embedded itself into my chest-plate.  
*Suit Integrity: 78%

Not bad, considering regular Gauss Rifle spikes normally kill on site. Over the coms I finally heard Kowalski yell, "40 mike mike out!" There was a _Thunk!_ sound and then an explosion rocked one of the upper floors sending debris and three screaming bodies crashing down to their deaths.

2 Terrans and 1 ugly birdfaced Alien. There wasn't time to inspect the gear they carried, we just kept on firing and they did the same until we heard someone gave a holler and it wasn't any one of us.

"Fall back to a C-Sec checkpoint and regroup! There's too many!"

As enemy fire slowly died down, I got everyone check into their suit status. Thankfully nobody got a suit integrity below 60%. We're goddamn professionals after all.

My gauntleted hand swept forward as we all got out of cover.

"Forward, watch those corners. Admiral Adams is just 200 yards away."

Davis piped in, "Into the belly of tha' beast right?"

Ray popped in and made us all laugh. "Yeah, and now the demon's ass,"

_Just another glorious day in the Corps._

**Admiral Beckett Adams POV.**

**Augustgrad, Korhal**  
**2505, January 1st**

New Year's Day. I stared through the plexi-glass of my apartment hotel room at the endless traffic which plagued the seven skies of Korhal. It amazes me that even at the very edge of our demise, the citizens just carry on with their daily routines.

But I suppose it's a better alternative than causing a meltdown in human civilization.

My weary eyes tailed a passing A2 Armored Mechanical Hybrid or "Viking", as it's called. You don't get to see Vikings in public much, the fact that they are now openly patrolling the skies of Korhal shows just how desperate we are getting.

Once the hybrid mech disappeared behind a tall tower under construction, I made my way back onto the sofa and proceeded to finish the last of my coffee.

I love coffee more so than any alcoholic beverage produced. It's just so rich and aromatic, unlike that pile of shit melted into liquid you call 'recaff'.

I'd wish this day would never end, wouldn't mind sitting here chugging down coffee and admiring Augustgrad for all eternity. It's become quite the sight after the Emperor has finished restoring the planet to its former glory.

Unfortunately, this is as good as it's ever going to get, for tomorrow, I'm being pulled aside to accomplish a task ordered directly by our glorious leader, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk. I'd hoped I'd be celebrating this ancient custom under far happier circumstances.

Many months had passed since our failed attempt to assassinate _her_. The rebel leader and mass murderer James Raynor was instead captured, tried and executed.

The Queen of Blades however has gone into hiding and remained at large.

Just under 2 weeks ago, we'd received confirmed reports that the Queen of Blades is back and better than ever. She's on the move, this time attacking our homes, our families, and our people once more with renewed vigor.

We've been fighting a losing battle ever since.

Multiple core worlds have been hit, supplies and humanitarian aid aren't getting through fast enough and to add insult to injury, the paramilitary-cum-rebel forces known to all as the Raynor's Raiders, whom we had written off as 'obselete' were on the move once more, rousing rebellion everywhere they go and performing hit-and-run attacks across the fringes of my beloved Terran Dominion.

The Kel-Morian Combine have taken advantage of this chaos and confusion by aggressively expanding into our territories while the Umojans remain elusive as ever, preferring to observe from a safe distance.

Strange thing is, all the Terran worlds hit by this new Zerg invasion were under the jurisdiction and the protection of the Terran Dominion.

Truly as the saying goes, hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.

I look down at my cup, now devoid of coffee except for the little smudges of the powder left behind. My right hand shot forward and deftly poured another helping of the inviting, piping-hot liquid.

Coffee soothes my mind, think of it as my anti-depressant, and besides, with troubling times such as these, one needs a steady supply of coffee.

My earpiece tingles all of a sudden, and on instinct my left hand shot forth and activated the two-way piece of military hardware.

"This is Adams," my tone was flat. Nobody would contact me on such a private frequency unless it's from someone important.

That... or it's just my concerned mother back on Reshfields.

"Hello?" croaked a voice I'm all too familliar with.

I gave a sigh and ran a hand through my short, black hair. It's her alright.

"Ma, I already told you, only use this channel if it's important." Her voice turned shrill when she replied and right then and there I wished I could just off myself.

"Don't ya' talk to your ma like that! I can call up my boy anytime and anyway I want!" I had to play the good guy here, it's never respectful to raise your voice in front of your elders. Hey, don't blame me I had a really strict upbringing.

"Yeah, I know that ma, but this is only for emergencies and there are other important people who might try to-"

"What'd ya mean by that Adam? Ain't your ma the most important person in ya' whole life?"

_I could easily retort by saying Emperor Arcturus Mengsk, FleetCom just to name a few. But I won't. I'm a good son, at least I try to be._

"Yeah, you are, without a doubt ma, but-"

"But nothin'. If it's your ma' who's callin', then ain't nobody else important. 'Cept Jesus,"

I inhaled and exhaled once, twice and thrice before resuming the conversation.

"Of course ma, I'm sorry. So why'd you call me up for?"

"Just checkin' on my lil' boy. And why're you breathin' so hard just now? Didja' had sex with another woman?"

_Wait, what? Damn this woman has a strong sense of imagination._

"No! God no, ma. With that Zerg bitch runnin' about ain't nobody got time for that! And I'm 32 for cryin' out loud. Stop making me sound like a kid! It makes me feel, you know, like a kid."

"Of course you' a kid, you always be. Like you said son, you're 32 and still single, your pa married me when he was 24. Your granpappy tied the knot when he was 19. Ma aint gettin' younger by the day, Adams. When you gonna settle down and gimme' some grandkids?"

I groaned inwardly. We've been having this conversation for a couple of years now, and she never fails to bring it up every single time we meet. She means well, but I'm in the Navy for christsake!

It's not like you can just walk up and say _"Hey, I've had enough of this so I'm gonna settle down, get a job in the farms, get married, and get me some kids,"_

"Ma, we ain't having this conversation again. I told you, this is my career, and I've invested too much of my life into this. Look, I'm the first man in the Koprulu sector to have ever made Admiral in his early thirties, can't you be more proud of my achievements? I promise once this war's over, I'll settle down and then we can properly discuss about kids."

There was a sigh of defeat on the other side of the line, and my mom's voice immediately became several pitches softer.

"I know boy, but, ma's not gonna be around for a very long time. With the Zerg acting up I'm just worried I might lose you just like how I lost your father to the Guild Wars. But you're right, you're a grown man and I should respect your decisions. I gotta go son, be sure to hold on to your promise,"

_She's probably holding back her tears. When dad died in the war nobody took it any harder than her and she gets very emotional each time someone brings it up. I gotta divert the situation or I'll turn __emotional as well._

"Well alright then, be sure to take your medication and drink plenty of water. Don't worry ma, your son's one tough sunnava bitch. He'll pull through this and then he's gonna marry the hottest babe in the Sector and then we can talk about having grandkids. I love you ma,"

"Love ya' too sweetheart,"

The line terminated. Leaving me stranded on the sofa with a tear sliding down my cheek. Damn I hate these sappy moments.

The next morning I had to do everything in a rush. Shower, breakfast, chores. With a general meeting at 1100 hours in Mengsk's palace and deployment at 1800 hours, things just got a lot more interesting.

I skimmed my hand from top to bottom of my vest, trying to smooth the buttons out nicely before setting my medals right. Everything was in order, good. I walked briskly to the door and snatched my cap along the way.

"Lights off," The lights flickered for a moment before the apartment went dark. I locked the holo-panel and marched into the elevator. The sun was being unmerciful even when it was only 1000 hours.

Around me were civilians about their daily routines. Most tried to walk past me as fast as they can, while some would actually step out of the way to let me pass.

Apparently, the brutality carried out by the Terran Dominion's armed forces scares even its own populace.

I can't say I blame the extreme precautions taken, somebody has to teach these hippie idealistic individuals that the Dominion's here to stay and if they can't accept that then they'll just have to be put in their place.

The palace's auto-door snapped open, and a blast of freezing cold, artificial air greeted me.

Jarheads and bean counters milled about, not caring I was within their midst. At the far end of the hall was a lift and a security counter right beside it being manned by two marines. Hoss and Xander.

Word of advice, don't play them in poker.

Sounds easy right?

But the problem is that within the military's inner circle there's a popular rumor that Dominion resocced marines cant play poker for shit. Well I gotta say whoever came up with that needs a Gauss spike up his ass.

In one match alone I lost 20,000 credits to Hoss, and that's 2 months of my salary I'm never getting back.

Upon seeing me the two got up from whatever it was they were doing and I in turn removed my navy cap and tipped it as a sign of greeting.

"Mornin' Hoss, Xanders," my voice sounded surprisingly jovial. I tapped my ID over the scanner and the server cleared me.

"Admiral sir," both gave me a synchronized curt nod and stepped aside. I permitted a smile and probed them about the next time we'd have another go in the nearby casino.

"April the 3rd, that's when we get our paychecks. Though we're hoping to earn a little more income off yours, sir" guffawed Xanders and that prompted a laugh from me.

I stepped inside the lift and punched in the highest floor; 209.

"Hell no, losing 20 grand the first time is bad enough. But sure, if I'm still alive by April the third and in Augustgrad then why not," As the door slammed shut I caught a glimpse of them laughing their heads off their voices further amplified by their external speakers.

I could not help but run my hand onto the surface of the intricate material which made the elevator. Mengsk not only lived in luxury, he breathed it. And he seems to have an odd obsession for marbled toilets.

I straightened myself and cleared my throat as the floor reached _189_.

_Shit, my cap's a little dusty_

I straightened it out and dusted imaginary dirt off my shoulders. I have to make myself presentable when I'm with Emperor Mengsk.

To be honest, I've seen the Emperor only once up close and that was him addressing the entire inner circle of the Dominion military shortly after Raynor's Raiders got that slandering piece of recording through to Korhal planet-wide.

Today I would be speaking to him. Just me and him, nobody else. Anxious would be an understatement to how I feel.

_Floor 191, its crunch time I guess_

I could feel my hands getting cold and clammy and -

_Wait, what the hell? I can feel there's someone standing right behind me!_

I whirled around and stared at the spot behind me, the air was shimmering as though something was moving and then it hit me, I slapped my forehead as realization kicked in.

Of course, who else but my personal bodyguard; Lieutenant Tesla. And yes, she's a Ghost.

_Sighs _

_"_How long have you been standing there, Lieutenant?" my voice was low and tight.

Tesla's a weird one, out of all the Ghosts that has ever served as my bodyguard; perks of being Admiral, mind you, she's the only one who has retained a significant part of her former self. If had to use just one word to describe her, it'd be unique.

_But really her short auburn hair's really stunning to, uh let me put it this way, observe._

"Observe? You mean ogle, right?"

She giggled with that smoky accent of hers as she de-cloaked. Her suit was a heavily modded version of the Hostile Environmental Suit. It glowed a sickly bright green instead of the standard blue.

Her creepy googly-eyed facemask was replaced with a simple re-breather mask dangling off her neck and on the base of her head was a multi-feature NV goggles.

Also, I noticed she seems to be lacking in that C-20 rifle she always has slung across her back.

"And for your information, I've been following you since you left your apartment. Took you long enough to find out,"

She made a face and crossed her arms in disappointment. I sighed and berated her.

"Dammit Tesla, I told you not to pull tricks like that with your cloaking, and I really do mean observe. Ogle is too... too vulgar," I allowed myself a smirk as she blushed. "By the way, where's that rifle of yours? You never seem to leave home without it." I spoke colloquially.

"Oh, the Emperor issued an order for any Dominion psychic assassins to stow their weapons away before entering."

I stared at her with a blank expression. We'd sometimes have a banter or two when we're off duty and to be honest she's real pleasant to have a discussion with.

I guess I can call her a friend since we've been through a lot in the past one month. She was transferred to my vessel, the _Saint Nazar II_ about three months after her entire squad was killed in a face off against Protoss Dark Templars, so says her file.

"Uh, that's good then, hey do I look presentable?"

Her sapphire eyes rolled and she gave '_tut'. "_I'm not your secretary, Admiral Adams."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes, sheesh you don't have to be a secretary to comment about my attire.

"But if you must know," I turned and faced her with narrowed eyes.

"You're not half bad in that," She giggled and then cloaked once more. Well, that's, nice to know but before I could ask her why did she go invisible so suddenly when -

"Floor 209. Emperor Arcturus Mengsk's personal quarters."

The doors parted and I was brought before a marvelously decorated room, dazzling chandeliers and a beautiful scenery over glorious Augustgrad.

In the middle of the room were the brains of the military. Navy, Army and Marine generals were bickering about the present situation.

They ignored me as I entered a room with a holo-display, _Emperor Mengsk's quarters._

_Lieutenant where are you?_

I thought, hopefully she'd pick up on my thoughts.

_I'm by the elevator, don't worry I'll meet you back here once you're done with our 'glorious' leader._

Her telepathic voice sounded snide. I'll have to reprimand her about that later when addressing a superior officer in such a tone.

I stared at the blast door before me slack-jawed, seriously, he's one paranoid guy. As if having a two-hundred-nine-stories-tall tower surrounded by the Dominion's finest isn't enough.

_Should I knock or just enter?_

I turned back at the bumbling group of men arguing on about a situation developing in Char, maybe I should ask them instead.

Without warning the door before me suddenly jerked once, twice and then split apart revealing the Emperor himself at the far end of the room seated in a tall chair with his back facing me. In one hand was a cigar and the other, a glass of Sherley's Brettock 2499.

"Come in, Admiral. And close the door would you?" His voice was powerful, authoritative, the kidn you would not dare to go against for fear of a backlash.

I slowly made my way to him. I stopped and turned back to lock the door before resuming over to him. My boots were anything but silent and it made all the more nervous for each step I took would be ever closer to meeting the Emperor.

I was mere inches away from the Emperor, and yet his back was still facing me. I could make out multiple security feeds and screens of which the Emperor was busy looking over.

I stood there for a whole... I don't know, ten seconds, before clearing my throat to get his attention. It did as he swallowed the last of his beverage and swiveled the chair around to face me.

He was wearing that fancy red vest which would be seen every time he makes a live appearance on the television. His hair was cropped neatly to the side and his beard neatly trimmed.

"Admiral Beckett Adams, is it?" he spoke and blew a whiff of smoke out into my direction and the air almost made me choke.

I could only manage a nod and a simple timid, "Aye sir,"

He nods and got out of his chair. He turns and pushes a button where a table and a bottle of Sherley's Brettock 2499 awaited us. "Come, sit with me,"

I did as told.

"Now, do you know why you're here?" he pours me a glass and one for himself. I accepted the glass, gave it a little sip before setting it aside.

"Of course, your majesty I have read personal message."

He downed his glass in a single swoop before chuckling in mirth. "Please, call me Mengsk. In here between the two of us, formalities are put on hold."

"Uh, of course sir," I whispered. "I mean Mengsk," he breaks into a wide genuine smile.

"Good, now I don't have to tell you we'll have to tighten our belts very soon." He pours himself another helping. I remained silent and look him in the eye as he spoke.

"The bitch," His eyes narrowed and looked away, his voice full of venom as he spat out that word. Honestly I'd never thought the Emperor would use obscenities.

"Is back, and has regained majority of the so-called Swarm. I don't know how she did it, not after what that Xel-Naga artifact had, purged her like the scum she is."

He got up and walked to the plexi-glass, staring at Augustgrad .

"I don't need to tell you that we're losing this fight, Beckett." His voice became distant as he spoke, thoughts running through his mind of what, one can only wonder. I was rather surprised that he used my first name.

"Our forces are spread thin as it is. The people need a miracle and I intend to give it to them," He turns and thumbs a remote controller. A wide screen about fifty inches dropped down from above. Its screen flashed and projected an image of -

_No way._

I got up and walked towards the projection , eyes wide in awe. "My liege, is that-"

"It is," an air of finality in his tone of voice.

"This is the artifact which was used against _Her _back on Char. Unfortunately it was destroyed when we turned it up to full power. However, my sources have confirmed we found another. And far more powerful than the previous. Unfortunately, we've lost contact with the research team over the past 24 hours. I fear she may have gotten to it."

"And I deduce this is the part where my fleet would come in, correct?" He nods in affirmation.

"Admiral Adams, your task would be to lead your battle group into the last known location of the research team and secure that artifact. I want it brought here, no exceptions. The survival of the Terran Dominion is at stake here."

I nodded and saluted him, "For the Terran Dominion, it will be done!" Mengsk laughed and poured me another glass upon seeing mine was empty.

"I like your gumption, you remind me of my son, the Crown Prince Valerian.

I could only beam and swell my chest with pride. "Thank you sir!"

He nods and walks me out of the room, a smile on his face. He puffs on his cigar before waving me off.

"Good luck and godspeed Admiral."

The blast door closes and I slowly walk to the elevator, utterly proud of myself. The Emperor's counting on me and so is the Dominion. And I'll move heaven and Earth to complete this mission.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, now here's chapter 3. I realized now that I should spend less time doing the AN and more on the story, so for this one and the next 3 it's gonna be entirely on third-person view. Well now, here I go!**

Beckett arrived at the Starport some time in the afternoon, by then traffic was lax and it had been a mercifully smooth journey. People were coming and going, but most were power armored marines, without a doubt headed towards his fleet for deployment. His mouth were fumbling over the words of, "Excuse me," and "Sorry," as he tried his best to wade through this busy ever-shifting mass of humanity.

Without a moment for pause, he flashed his ID at the guard, who nodded and extended an armored hand towards the military section of the shuttle bay. He sighed for it was basically anothertedious long walk of shoving past men and women alike.

_*Bop_

That was the sound of Beckett's shoulder making hard contact with the chest of a woman in her late twenties. The force was seemingly powerful for it sent her spiraling to the ground. The coffee previously grasped within her hand now lay beside her blouse, its contents lay smattered atop the light fabric.

Oops.

"For Chris'sake, watch where'ya goin, miss," he snapped at the seemingly middle aged woman but nonetheless stretched his hand out in good favor. Beckett found himself in a bewilderment when she scrambled to her feet, gave him a good almighty shove and screamed obscenities into the Admiral's face. As a high ranking officer of the Royal Dominion Navy he would not tolerate the berating of one vulgar deranged female civilian. As his momma would put it,

_"Sometimes you gotta give them hoes' a good smack. Even if they be women."_

"Lady, I don't know what your malfunction is but I will not be spoken to in this manner, either you see reason and fuck off or I will personally see to it you end in the-"

Two armed marines came into the picture all of a sudden they rushed in and saved her skin from incarceration by roughly hauling the screaming woman away to the security counter.

"Crazy ass bitch," muttered someone from the crowd. Beckett couldn't agree more.

The twosome who'd dragged the woman away then returned to address him. Both had no custom markings whatsoever, not surprising considering these two are not out in combat tours. The one with a sergeant stripe stenciled to his pauldrons snapped a salute before raising the visor.

His face was fresh –no scars, lacerations, bruises whatsoever. Probably a recent graduate of DSOI.

"Apologies sir, we weren't fast enough to contain the situation. me and my partner will accept any punishment you wish to mete out,"

Beckett simply shook his head in disagreement, he was running late, the shuttle to his vessel leaves in less than 10 minutes, "Nah, its fine fellas, just, just get back to your posts," The marine and his partner seemed overjoyed at the statement, both were 'all smiles' to put it.

"T..thank you, sir!" was all the Sergeant managed before stomping away merrily. As he continued his way to the designated shuttle, Lieutenant Tesla sent out a telepathic message.

_That lady needed to be put in her place, want me to give her a lesson?_

By lesson, the good lieutenant meant beating the shit out of her in a secluded spot and then putting a bullet between her eyes.

_Uh, that won't be necessary it was my fault in the first place_

_Understood_

Having a telepathic conversation was really weird, the mental voice projected from speaker echoes in your mind from every direction. It's one of the things Beckett can never get used to.

He was a good ten meters away from the entrance when the intercom suddenly blared, "Attention, Shuttle 9F is leaving in two minutes, this is the last call for any more passengers,"

A handful of power armored marines and some techies roughly brushed past him, egging the other to hurry. One turned and lifted his hand sheepily as a way of saying, 'sorry' before rushing onwards towards a shuttle. Beckett's flight itself was 2A, which would be leaving in -

_Six minutes and twenty-seven seconds_

He jerked in response to her sudden mental intrusion. Goddamn Ghost, how many times must he tell her not to - _Oh._

_Uh, thank you Lieutenant, will you be boarding the same flight as me?_

_Nope, I'm in a different flight but I'll see you in the bridge sir_

The "link" was cut and Beckett decided to get himself a drink, plenty of time left.

In his right hand was a can of diet cola and the left, his air-ticket. Beckett kept walking until he reached the designated piece of aero-dynamic piece of shit. Already there was a long queue of men and women. The Admiral sighed at the time that would take for him to finally get inside.

Roughly seven minutes later he was strapped at the very end of the shuttle, squeezed between a hulk of a man who wouldn't stop shoving his elbow into his personal space and a woman snoring loudly with her head leaning against the Admiral's shoulders. "Sunnava' bitch!" he hissed.

If you thought that was bad, wait until the shuttle was space-borne. When they had pierced the first three layers of Korhal's atmosphere, that two hundred pound of muscle you call a human being immediately grabbed his hand in an excruciatingly painful vice-grip and held on to it like it's some kind of lifesaver while the woman just held on to his shoulder and wet it with her saliva.

It was the longest ten minutes of his life.

The shuttle had been headed towards his commissioned vessel, the "Saint-Nazar II" a gargantuan Gorgon-Class BattleCruiser which spanned close to 850 meters. Refitted with plasma shields and over 2 meters of grade-A Neosteel, this baby could take a pounding from a Protoss Mothership and still be cleared combat capable. During mid-flight he had contemplated with the idea of throwing these two out the nearest airlocks once they'd arrived. As tempting as it had sounded, he needed every swinging dick in this. If the Emperor had diverted his fleet for a retrieval task instead of bolstering the Dominion's defenses against the Swarm then it had to be of great importance. The artefact may be the key to ending this entire war.

The shuttle had barely powered off when a Navy officer, an ensign jumped aboard. Beckett recognized him as Avery Yutani, ever impeccable in his dressing with clean curly brown hair, friendly eyes and rosy red cheeks.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gents," He held his view with intense focus. "Can you please stand up and grab your belongings? Good, now once you exit, keep moving there," He pointed at a certain direction, "And don't stop till you've reached the tram-station. Are we clear? Hey, hey, lady no drinking here, come on move, you, quit holding up the fellas at the back and – Admiral Adams! Sir!"

He snapped into a salute the moment he laid eyes on Admiral Beckett whom returned the gesture by curtly nodded at him and exited the shuttle. "Sir, didn't see you back there, why did you ride up in the scrap-heap instead of calling up one of the dropships here?"

"No time, we're leaving in less than an hour. Have the fleet's been accounted for?"

Ensign Yutani whipped out his PDA and skimmed through. "Uhh, yeah. We're still loading up supplies and the last of the crew are coming in. We're ready to depart by _'1800' _hours."

"Good, as you were,"

"Aye Admiral."

All around him, crewmembers went about their daily work while jarheads stood guard in strategic locations around the hangar. Beckett breathed in the sweet air, it's good to be back. As he headed to the Tram station, the Admiral had to nod at every crewmember who acknowledged him. It's becoming a bit of a pain, after addressing the 50th crewmember.

Thankfully when he reached the tram station there was an available tram getting ready to ship off, he slipped in before anyone could notice. The trip to the bridge would be half an hour at least since they had to make stops along the way. He noticed his cola was still half full and proceeded to finish it.

His cola was thoroughly drained before the trip was even halfway through and the Admiral spent the remainder of the ride, napping.

"Now Approaching, Bridge." droned the ship's adjutant, Aphrodite. The automated doors split apart and formed a ramp, steam began seeping out of the tram's exhausts and yet, no passenger alighted.

The guard on duty, an MP in his late 50s noticed this and peeked his head inside the passenger bay. "Hello?"

He meekly entered and came upon a sight of Admiral Beckett Adams napping on one of the seats. The old timer sighed and took out his baton, the stun function set to 'Off'. He stopped walking the minute he was a feet away from the sleeping passenger and tapped the base of Beckett's knee with the baton.

"Sir,"

No response.

"Dammit I'm too old to play nanny, shuda' stayed in that school as janitor."

He shook the shoulders of the Admiral with both hands. "Sir, sir!" With a startled yelp Beckett awoke and hugged the railings for support as he nearly fell over. He lay on his knees, head shaking violently to snap awake. Slowly he stood up and rubbed his nose gently.

""Ya' took quite a nap back there, had to wake ya since we're at the Bridge, now best ye' be going sir." spoke the MP flatly before stepping aside for the Admiral to pass. The old timer watched the Terran Dominion Navy-man march off, "Kid's too young to be an Admiral," he mumbled and got back to guzzling his recaf.

The hallway seemed deserted. Most of the staff there were already in the bridge checking off warp-jump diagnostics. He tumbled into his personal quarters and made for the shower. In one fell motion Beckett relieved himself of his clothes.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Tesla had been standing outside his bathroom, preparing to give her boss one of those "scares-your-officer-with-that-awesome-cloaking-fe ature-of-yours" once he exited his shower and instead it was she who had a fright.

The Ghost was horrified at what she was hearing. Inside the bathroom the Admiral was whispering lovey-dovey crap to his shower. His shower of all things, and the words he used sent shivers down her spine. Her prank was immediately aborted and the traumatized Ghost left her boss' quarters without a sound.

Seriously, some things are just meant to be left alone. As she made her way to the Bridge, she couldn't help but whisper to herself, "I will never sleep well again."

_45 minutes later_

Latex met neo-steel as Admiral Beckett Adams' boots kept pounding on the neo-steel floorboards. He strided across the ship with a much different aura; One that radiated of power and authority compared to how he presented himself hours ago. His head held high, hands clasped behind his back, new naval suit and all plus a fragrant odour wafted from his very self. He owed it to that amazing shower gel his mother had sent him.

A mousy looking technician carrying a crate filled with spider mines hastily scrambled out of Beckett's way.

Two Spec-Ops marines stood guard, their CMC were matte balc, a huge contradiction to the rusty red their regulars donned. A symbol of a skull and two knives potruding from the top were imprinted upon each of their pauldrons. Currently their heavy rifles overlapped each other forming an "X" shape thus blocking the door. Upon seeing Admiral Beckett himself the two broke formation and stepped aside. The Admiral entered his workstation silently.

The bridge was a mess, aides and staff ran about with holo-pads on their hands, operators voiced commands and queries over the coms and his XO was having a rough time managing the entire course.

"Admiral on deck!"

Cried an earnest aide who noticed Admiral Beckett enter and everyone present in the bridge stood up from their posts as a sign of respect when addressing a high ranking officer.

"At ease," Beckett spoke with a dismissal wave of his hand. He strode over to his command chair and XO Chrissa immediately proceeded to hand over command of the fleet back to one Admiral Beckett Adams of the Dominion Royal Navy.

"Christina you seem to be happy about this, running a fleet too much for ya'?"

"Ha-ha well sir it would be easy if only we weren't mobilized three days ahead of schedule," deadpanned the XO.

Once the procession was accomplished, Beckett finally sat on his command chair and powered up the console.

_ Place Hand onto scanner_

_.._

_ Confirmed, Welcome Back Admiral Beckett Adams SN-899X-JJ76-PO33-551B, No new messages_

_ Fleet strength, check_

_ Please Wait.._

_.._

_.._

_ Fleet strength as follows_

_ 15 SV(10% retrofitted with PSM shields)_

_ 27 Behemoth Class BC (38% retrofitted with PSM shields)_

_ 30 Minatour Class BC (65% retrofitted with PSM shields)_

_ 8 Gorgon Class BC (100% retrofitted with PSM shields)_

_ Close.._

_.._

_.._

_ Done!_

"Merrick how's this old girl doing?"

The ensign in question glanced over his workstation and brought a thumbs up gesture, "I got green across the board. Weapons, life support, reactors. Everything checks out sir,"

"Aphrodite, status of the fleet?" he called out into seemingly empty space. A hologram of a female cyborg materialized inches to his left.

"Fleet status at 100% combat effectiveness." the cyborg spoke in monotone synthetic female voice and occasionally having abrupt spasms as the AI checked off reports of the fleet. Once Beckett was satisfied he focused attention to the ensign on chair number two.

"Number two, take the reigns, bring us around at 100 klicks due East and have the fleet warm up engines for jump,"

The female ensign, designated "Number-two" replied with a stiff, "Aye, sir," and soon the Saint Nazar II was mobile. Power was diverted to the enormous engines as the Gorgon Class navigated at maximum burn.

"Sir, DSC's cleared us for warp jump. Fleet reports ready for warp jump and ready to deploy on your mark." Beckett grabbed the sides of his command chair, he loved this part, silently he stole a glance at his watch to time the jump correctly. Warp jumps were highly risky business and one had to have a perfect timing. Even if it were a second off the resulting jump would be potentialy fatal.

_ 1751 hours, okay then I should jump in about two minutes. Yeah, two minutes ought to do the trick._

"Good, make the jump in T minus 1 minute and 48 seconds. Synch with the fleet this time number three, don't want another incident of New Haven now would we?"

New Haven, Beckett's fleet warp jumped to the Dominion fringe world of Haven with the intent to stamp out the Zerg incursion. But the Saint Nazar II and four other vessels were still caught in FTL, the remaining 80 ships, suffered immense casualties due to incomepetent leadership skills by the second-in-command, an ambitious Captain who lost her ship and her life later that day. Replacements had long been made but every loss was a huge blow dealt to the Terran Dominion.

"Ahh, of course sir,"

An operator quickly transmitted into the intercom on a ship-wide channel.

"All hands, prepare for warp jump, repeat, brace for warp jump in T-1 minute 30 seconds. Return to your assigned posts immediately,"

_50, 49, 48, hot damn this is nerve racking! _

Thought the Admiral as the crew threw itself into chaos to prepare for imminent warp jump.

"We are jumping, in 5, 4, ready, steady, go!" And the operator designated "Number One" punched in the key. Everyone was thrown to the edge of their seats as the Saint Nazar II entered warp space. It would be a three hour journey to wherever it is the Emperor wants them to be.

Distortions lit up from within the void and with each passing second the anomaly grew in size and all of a sudden a space-borne vessel was spat forth from the belly of said void. The vessel itself stood from bow to stern a massive 750 meter.

The Saint Nazar II has successfully exited warp jump.

It was not alone, there were others also belched forth from the void. Then another, and another, and another until all eighty ships were accounted for.

Beckett sat at his command chair, eyeing a distant planet out in approximately two hundred kilometers.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, we're here. Wherever here is,"

**Saint Nazar II, Gorgon Class BattleCruiser**

**Bridge**

**2300 hours**

The power suited figure took his place by the left side of the holo-table. Present upon the bridge were the local commanders aboard the Saint Nazar II as well as people of importance from the other ships. Once Marine Lieutenant General Blonski was accounted for, Beckett began his briefing.

"Alright gents, now that we're all here mission briefing will now begin." His hand slipped underneath the table and flipped a switch thus projecting a mini 3D rendition of the planet before them. Beckett swept his hand lazily on the brim of the hologram and as he does so, the 3D projection followed suit, rotating until Beckett laid his hand off.

"No bullshit, no beating-around-the-bush, so far these are the facts. Dominion science team arrived in this system 2 cycles ago. Contact has been reported lost. Before contact was lost, they found a Xel-Naga artefact, Codenamed Red Dawn."

The committee broke out into harsh whispers, anxiety and fear etched across their faces. Red Dawn referred to the Xel-Naga artefact utilized during the third invasion of Char and the results were devastating indeed. Not only did it deal a huge blow to the Queen Of Blades, but also damaged multiple primary Hive Clusters and even drove multiple broods feral.

"And the probability of a Zerg incursion," He looked to the grim faces of the local commanders, "Is high." He sighed and continued.

"As of now, we know nothing more than what HighCom knows. The Emperor has personally tasked me, you and everyone a part of this fleet to secure "Red Dawn" and bring it back to Korhal. No matter the cost. Gentlemen, you and I know the price of failure."

A bullet to the head by your own hand as demanded by his royal majesty, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk.

"The planet before you, tagged UW-426 is broadcasting a distress beacon," He jabs the 3D hologram with the index finger once more, a chunk of the hologram was magnified and red dots could be seen, mere millimeters apart. Each dot represented the possible locations of the distress beacon. "Somewhere in this region. Now, I want two squads deployed planetside to locate that signal, trace it, secure the artefact and bring it back up. Hopefully, it would still be in one piece and we won't be dealing with the Swarm anytime soon. "

"Why deploy the marines? Ah' mean, can we not just use our scanners to triangulate the signal?"

All eyes fell onto the intimidating figure of a CMC-300 decked heavily in olive green camo' paintjob. His chest piece had the words, "MJR INIESTA" stenciled upon it. A nasty flak pistol was secured to where the thighs would be. Medals adorned his suit and they jingled ever softly as he strode towards the young Admiral with purpose.

Beckett's XO answered the question in place of her upline. "We did, but the signal's position change everytime we run further scans. So far, we've pinpointed sixteen possible locations of the Xel-Naga artefact

Dominion Science Team have set up their base. Once we've found the base, we can track the location of the artefact," She stole a glance at the Admiral, who had gone all silent. "Red Dawn."

Commodore Ronsom, head of wolfpack "Viper" raised her hand, capturing the attention of the Admiral himself.

"Admiral Adams, wouldn't it be easier to use our Reaper specialists? They traverse terrains easily, and they're light and fast which makes them the best recon units, not to mention they're more effective than the jarheads."

'I like your idea, Ronsom, that could work. The Saint Nazar II alone has eight companies of Reaper Corps specialists, that's close to 500 infantry on deck. So, it's decided on this part then, we'll use just one Reaper squad to locate the source of the distress beacon. They'll begin deployment at first light. Once the distress beacon's been located, Lieutenant General Blonski's ground pounders can do the housework, "

General Blonski took this as the opportune moment to jump into the discussion, "And if we do encounter the Zerg, mark my words we will, the 82nd Marines will pound their spiny tails flat into dust!"

The general's armored gauntlet smashed into another in emphasis to the statement he just made.

A few more issues were resolved before Beckett called it a day.

**CPL Jackson Elijah Pits, 22nd Reaper Division**

**Saint Nazar II Gorgon Class Battlecrusier**

**Armory B-a**

**0800 hours**

Lance Corporal "Acks" of 'Hades' section hated recon. He preferred raids. When his squad was rousted for a recon drop onto planet 'UW-426' he nearly burst a vessel. Acks was one of the few who could negate the effects of resocialisation, all it did was piss him off. The first thing he did the minute he was roughly yanked out of the resoc tanks was to reach out and snap the neck of the nearest doctor. With over 50 counts of first degree murder, all of which done by hand, it was no surprise Acks was to be sent into a facility known as the "Icehouse" to become the epitome of death.

To become the grim reaper.

Twenty-six months the man endured, his spirit, mind and body broken, only to be reforged and the process repeated a thousand times over. The man who entered the Icehouse was Jackson Pits, the man who emerged was something else entirely, known to the Commanders simply as "Acks".

Currently, Acks was suiting up, his respirator dangling loosely by the scruff of his neck and goggles around his head. Within less than a minute the Reaper was fully suited, booted and strapped. His twin P8 Gauss pistols were tucked nicely, and his D8 charges hidden inside the suit. He tugged the straps a few times, once he was satisfied he left the armory.

"Acks, you're late," a fist collided with his shoulder. The mirror image of another Reaper leaning against the wall. The man in question was puffing away on a cigar. it was Acks' squadmate, "Mad Dog" Ivan. A

mentally disturbed individual with a fetish for explosives. Acks brushed off the pain and clasped Ivan's hand and collided their shoulders against one another. "Ivan, always glad to see there in the universe exists a man far more disgusting than I am."

"I aim to please, brother,"

"That depends, c'mon, Sarge's waitin," They grew deathly silent and passed by dozens of crewmembers, all of whom parted and gave ways to the two angels of deaths. Ivan decided to start a convo on the way to the hangar.

"So, what's your take on this recon drop?" - Ivan

"Fucknuts, man. 500 Reapers aboard this damn ship and we're the lucky ones who gets recon." - Acks

"I hear ya' on that one, last recon I did was on Char, lost most of my squadmates when we ran into a pack of Hydras, I thought I'm done with recon, turns out I'm wrong. I swear, fate must've been a whore in its previous life." - Ivan

"Agh fuck me, you know I hate reconnaissance, a lot of moving around, a lot of standing around but no killing," - Acks

"The killing part'll take care of itself Acks, just keep your head clear once we're planetside," - Ivan

They RVed with their squad leader, Sergeant Twitch in the hangar. Already he was strapped into cargo hold of their assigned transport, D9-388. "You're late." he growled the minute Acks and Ivan entered. "Blow it out of your ass old man, I was taking a crap when orders came."

The sergeant shook his head and the squad spent the rest of the trip to the surface in silence.

The intercom aboard the dropship came to live and a rough accent scratched through the outdated speakers.

"Flight diagnostics complete, green across the board. We're beginning our descent, you boys settled down back there?"

Ivan rapped his fist against the metallic wall in response.

"Okay, we're dropping...now" There was a drop in gravity as the dropship literally fell from the cargo bay of the Battlecruiser and freefell headfirst into the planet below. Acks felt the very air leave his lungs and scrambled for the hand railings as the dropship picked up speed and a tremendous amount of heat, the engines roared to life and settled D9-388 nice and easy over the hostile planet's natural formations.

*Aliens 1986 combat drop scene

D9-388 swung back to the Saint Nazar II once it had disgorged the Reapers. Their primary objective would be to locate the artefact, 'Red Dawn' via the distress signal sent out by the missing Dominion Science Team, once they have completed their task the marines would hog all the glory in securing it. Anything else would be considered secondary.

"I hate this planet," announced Acks loudly over roar of his jump pack.

"You and me both," hissed Ivan.

For the past ten minutes since his arrival onto this planet there'd been no high ground to traverse, nothing to shoot at, nothing worth reminiscing about at all. There was just grass and trees, grass, trees, more grass, more trees.

"Stow it Lance Corporal, your jump pack's leaking fuel, tighten that gauge and get back in formation we're approaching the first objective," grunted Sergeant Twitch. Acks did as told and fell behind the Sergeant.

To keep his sick derogatory self amused, Acks kept magnifying and shrinking his optics on the sergeant's ass.

Three hours had passed and the recon team had yet to zero in onto the distress signal. They've already written off four of the sixteen possible locations and were halfway on to the fifth. They'll be relieved within 12 hours with another Reaper squad should Acks' team's efforts turn out to be fruitless.

"This is useless, at the rate we're going, we're gonna burn up every scrap of vespene in the tanks before we even hit the seventh!" moaned Ivan. Acks agreed with the statement but said nothing otherwise while the Sarge waved the 'bird'. All of a sudden his hand shot forth towards his radio.

"Reapers, heads up! I have a visual on the fifth possible location, six hundred yards due West."

"Looks like some sort of cave, I'll bet my entire salary the artefact and the distress signal's emanating from there," Acks piped.

"Yep, though I'm pretty sure the Corps do not pay us. Cmon' lets go full throttle, the faster we do this, the better," The sergeant was the first to go supersonic, then Acks then Ivan. Acks' vision became blurry as the suit pumped combat drugs into his system to cope with the insane speed his body was being propelled at.

"Papa Dragon this is Dagger 3-3, we're closing in on the fifth possible location. Uh, Looks like a cave of some sort, Uh, be advised, high chance Red Dawn might be inside. Break."

The line was silent, the speaker on the other end witholding himself. Moments later a new voice spoke. Admiral Adams.

"Solid copy, we'll have the marines on standby for this one, continue on with your reconnaissance. Papa Dragon out,"

Line went dead shortly thereafter.

They found the entrance of the cave as they neared it, Dominion military hardware and computer systems lay scattered about. Blood smeared over the walls but no bodies.

Ivan whistled over the net, "Lotsa' blood, no bodies. Can't be Zerg they're never this clean,"

Acks was the first to whip out his twin P-45 Gauss Pistols, followed by his squadmate and sergeant.

"Alright, take it slow." whispered the sarge as he waded through the blood and spoilt equipment. They made their way through the encampment, there was no form of physical damage done to the camp, no blood and no bodies. Sergeant Twitch found the distress beacon, a cylindrical object about a feet long almost buried all the way into the muddy ground.

Twas' a stroke of luck Twitch found it, the way it was positioned looked as though there was an attempt to conceal the beacon from be spotted, he fiddled with the object before turning it off. "The damn thing's been running for 36 hours, so I'm guessin' whoever caused this must be long gone by now," announced Ivan as he came up to the Sergeant to have a peek at the beacon. The sergeant gave a nod before tossing the useless object aside. "Continue mining for information."

Meanwhile Acks was busy going through the items and hardware left behind by the Dominion Science Team. His red tinted optics focused its gaze onto one of the computers still active. He holstered his weapons and stretched his hand out onto the holo-pad, perhaps he could -

"Acks!" The sound of his sergeant startled him, "What?" Acks responded in an impolite tone. "See if you can get into the system and find out what the fuck's happened out here." The Lance Corporal raised both his hands up indignation. "I was already on it, old man!"

"Good, I'll go call it in."

**PVT Dwight S. Hunter, 82nd Marines, Echo Company, 4th Platoon**

**High On Acid, Minotaur Class Battlecruiser**

**Armory A-7**

**1147 hours**

Dwight - Private Dwight was happy. Combat situation at last, after two months of mucking about on boring space patrols and shore leaves, the boy's prayers were finally answered. He pivoted his armored foot onto the wall before locking down the straps tight. Satisfied that it was secure, the Private slipped on his combat gloves, a tedious chore the gloves were but it would not dampen his mood.

Today was the day he was finally gonna pass through the 'trial by fire'. All around him, marines were murmuring their eagerness to get down and dirty with whatever it was that ate up the research team. Noncoms would holler orders to hustle it up and the grunts would comply enthusiastically. Most of them like Dwight were greenhorns, fresh out of the resoc tanks, power suits shiny and all with nothing but their hypno-bullshit training and the fire in their bellies to overcome the Dominion's endless threats.

"Come on you apes you wanna' live forever?" screamed a power armored figure at the entrance, the unmistakable rank of a Master Sergeant proudly stenciled upon his chest plate and his menacing C-14 stood at the ready. The entire armory erupted into a wild roar as Dwight and his fellow brothers in arms scrounched up whatever scrap of ammunition and grenades into their inventories and stamped out en-masse towards the hangar. "Get some to die marines!" yelled the same MSGTfrom before. As Dwight was swept along the tide, the intercom came to life.

"Attention, this is the Captain speaking, Alpha through Echo companies prepare for planetary deployment, This is not a drill, repeat-"

The young man of twenty wrapped his fingers along the smooth handguard of his weapon and gripped it hard upon hearing what the Captain had to say. 'This is it, finally gonna' see some action,'

His thoughts were interrupted when an oversized hunk of neo-steel that Is the 5-4 Marauder suit nearly knocked him off balance. Even in power armor, the Marauder suit was still capable of pulping a CMC-

300 with relative ease and they stood a foot taller and wider than your average grunt. Young Private Dwight scrambled to get out of the man's way by sinking farther behind at the back of the stampeding marines.

As the other marines shoved and shouted to get into their assigned dropships. Dwight managed to squeeze through the incoherent lot, a feat close to impossible with that armor of his mind you, he broke off from the mob and found his dropship, LB-112' shortly after. Inside were some of his platoonmates already settled down but their excitement could barely be contained.

Their residential firebat -Private Idaho performed constant checks on his fuel tanks in case, PFC Narsus could be seen at the back proudly boasting about all the shit he was gonna' kill once they hit the surface. More marines from Dwight's platoon poured into the passenger hold, but no sign of the Platoon Commander.

Their PC came in with the last two platoonmates. First Lieutenant Darnibian was relatively new from the academy, one could easily see he was just as excited as the greenhorns.

"Marines, you feel good?" He bellowed.

"Sir Yes Sir!" majority of the jarheads including Dwight answered his call.

"Can't hear you, feelin' good marines?"

"SIR YES SIR!" LT. Darnibian scanned the fresh and eager expressions of the marines under his command, if anything they seemed more eager to get down to the surface then he was. Dwight sat straight up as the El-Tee began his briefing.

"In two minutes, we will be inserted into the last known location of the research team. No bodies just lots of blood. We may be going up against a new strain of Zerg," at the mention of this the passenger hold broke out into harsh whispers. The Lieutenant seemed unfazed at the sudden din and continued. "The reconnaissance team has secured the beacon and has begun mining for information. Once we get down, we hog all the glory in finding and securing 'Red Dawn' while the scouts get topside for some chow. Stay frosty down there, keep a cool head, just kill anything that's not human and you'll live to see veteran-hood."

The passenger hold was deathly silent. Even Dwight was. Zerg. The very mention of that name brought fear everywhere, be it among the ranks of Terran or Protoss. And Dwight was gonna' see one up front and personal soon. His grip tightened around his Gauss rifle.

Moments after the Dwight's PC finished his briefing the dropship fell out of the hangar. Zero-Gees kicked in and the marines activated their grav-boots.

"It's a two hour ride from now so get some rest boys cos' the only easy day was yesterday."


End file.
